#Office painters sunshine

[localpaintersau]

House Painting Service: Change the Complete Look of Your Work and Home Space

You now have a new workplace, a new home, or even a new restaurant with a house painting service. You can finally see the future you've been working for, and you're filled with optimism and enthusiasm as you survey the area in front of you. However, before you can decide where to put this and that, you are met with uninteresting, bare walls.

The realisation that you still have a ways to go dawns on you with office painters sunshine. Therefore, you could benefit from experienced counsel. A crucial element is hiring pros to paint your home. We know that the first thing any guest or visitor to your home observes is the walls, therefore it is essential that your home should seem nice.

What Motivates People To Hire Professional Painters?

Professional painters might be a little more expensive to hire than neighbourhood painters, but they can give your workplace or home the fresh appearance you want. The following are some advantages of employing a qualified painter:

No Speculation: You won't have to worry about the painting process or assume responsibility if you hire professionals to paint your home. Professional painters are aware of their obligations and what has to be done to prepare your home. As a result, you may concentrate more on your everyday tasks after hiring a professional painter because you won't have to worry about your job.

Excellent Finish: A superb finish applied by experts will stay longer on your home than one painted by a neighbourhood painter. They can assure you that you will have the smooth, shiny walls you had imagined since they are aware of what goes into a high-quality finish. Additionally, they will make sure to utilise name-brand materials to address any surface problems with your home's walls.

Cash Worthy: Anyone who makes an investment always wants to see a strong return on that investment. The same applies when you employ a professional painter: you aim for a high standard of finish since you are investing in the appearance of your home or place of business.

Residential home painters are knowledgeable, trained experts who respect excellent work and services. To learn more about our home painting services, contact us right away.

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[alwaysmicado]

Trouble

5.3k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 5

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, D/s dynamic, rough oral (m receiving), spitting, cum eating, leg humping, degradation/praise, humiliation kink, pet names, aftercare, feelings Summary: After you’ve distracted Joel from work with your explicit texts all day, he decides to teach you a lesson.  A/N: Consensual degradation & humiliation – my beloved. This one's for you if you're into unadulterated filth with feelings sprinkled on top hehe. Let me know what you think, I love hearing your thots! 🤍

pt. 1 ・ pt. 2 ・ pt. 3 ・ pt. 4 ・ series masterlist

“You sure you got nothing else to say to me?”

“I’m—sorry?”

“No,” he tilts his head and you see the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you will be when I’m done with you.”

---

“Sneaking out for a hot date?” 

Busted. 

You sigh and turn around to face Kristen’s triumphant grin. Beautiful Kristen. The only person at your job with a bearable personality. 

If you only had Janice from accounting and her incessant yapping about her feral kids, or John from HR and his never-ending tirades against “modern women”, you probably would have burnt down the building already.  

Kristen’s been your lifeline over the past two years at this job. She’s upbeat, fun, a gifted painter and the closest thing to a female friend you have. 

Her only flaw: she’s so nosy it’s not even funny.

After your get-well-fuck with Joel three days ago where he left multiple marks on your neck, you not only plastered a bunch of foundation over the purple reminders of his fever-fueled nipping, you also wore a silk scarf which, in hindsight, was a dumb idea.

The first thing you were welcomed with when you came in that morning was an enthusiastic “You go, girl!” followed by giggling after Kristen saw your unimpressed face. 

You shoot her a half-hearted smile and raise an eyebrow. “Who says it’s a date?” 

Kristen’s grin widens. “Oh, come on! You think I don’t notice the way you giggle at your phone like a lovesick idiot?”

“Oh, shut up,” you protest in mock offense. What the hell is she talking about? You don’t do that. “I got a doctor’s appointment. Nothing hot about that,” you say nonchalantly.

Kristen leans in, lowering her voice dramatically. “A doctor, huh? Do you have an ache only he can cure with his special tool?”

“You’re a pervert, you know that?” 

“Yeah, duh. That’s why you love me,” she chuckles, causing the corners of your own lips to twitch. 

“Well,” she smirks, “I hope the doctor will take the best care of you.” 

You roll your eyes at her teasing, grab your bag and blow her a kiss before heading out. You leave the office with a grin, reveling in the sunshine that greets you when you step out.

The warmth of the day feels refreshing against your skin as you stroll to the parking lot. Your dress, despite being a result of prolonged laundry procrastination, is surprisingly comfortable, allowing you to appreciate the light breeze that rustles its fabric. 

The sun casts a golden hue on the cityscape and you can't help but smile at the small pleasures of life – the sun on your face, a staff meeting getting canceled earlier, finding twenty bucks in an old pair of jeans this morning.

Life is okay at the moment.

Despite work kicking your ass, your mother trying to guilt-trip you into coming “home” and the last hookup you had throwing you out in the middle of the goddamn night because his wife came home from her business trip early.

You’re feeling good. 

One might even say you’re happy.

If only there wasn’t this nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You take a deep breath and straighten your shoulders when you see your Uber pull up. Get yourself together. 

The car winds through the city streets, and as you give Joel's address to the driver, you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation. The engine hums softly as you navigate the familiar turns, presenting the perfect background to lose yourself in a daydream.

As you settle into the comfort of your bed, the world outside fades away. In the gentle embrace of your imagination, you feel a figure appear behind you. Their warmth is a soothing balm, and as they pull you close, a profound sense of security envelops you. The weight of the world, of your being lifts, replaced by the tender reassurance of this ethereal embrace.

In this imagined sanctuary, sleep finds you easily, cradled in the arms of solace. The whispered promise of warmth and safety lingers, allowing dreams to unfold like petals, undisturbed and serene in the soft glow of moonlight.

The notification sound of your phone pulls you back to reality. Glancing at the screen, you see Joel's name. You open the message and involuntarily press your thighs together, your pulse quickening instantly. 

Door’s open. Get naked, then come upstairs.You’re in real trouble, angel.

---

The familiar scent of Joel’s home greets you when you step inside. It smells more like home than your apartment or any other place you’ve lived in since you were a child. Safe, warm, comforting – like its owner. And it’s a surprisingly well-decorated and welcoming home for a bachelor.

So much so that you asked him flat out if he had a wife on your first night together.

You take your shoes off and put your bag on the couch in the living room before heading to the downstairs bathroom to wash your hands and quickly check if you look presentable. Your eyes are a bit swollen from lack of restful sleep, but other than that, you’re good to go.

As you take your dress, bra and panties off, you somewhat fondly remember the last time Joel ordered you to his home because you were sending him filthy texts and photos while you both were at work. 

You spent thirty minutes sitting still on his lap while he worked on his computer, his throbbing cock buried deep inside you. Every time he would shift in his chair a little, you would whimper into the crook of his neck and he would whisper into your ear how well you were doing for him and draw soothing circles on your back with his palm.

You hated and loved every torturous second of it. 

The office door is open when you come upstairs. Your eyes widen when you see Joel sitting at his desk. It’s incredible how handsome he looks. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, blue gym shorts and his glasses as he’s staring at the computer and typing something with his index fingers.

Your heart starts beating faster as you take him in, the domesticity of this scene giving you an unexpectedly warm feeling deep within you. 

“You just gonna stand there and stare at me?” Joel asks with a swivel of his chair, his body now facing yours. He saw you out of the corner of his eye before but now that he’s getting a good look at you, his jaw almost hits the floor.

He will never get used to seeing you naked. 

“God, you’re so much more beautiful in real life,” he murmurs, his pupils blown wide and the admiration in his voice unmistakable.

You give him a satisfied smile as you lean against the doorframe. “I sure hope so,” you tease. 

“Do you know why you’re here, darlin’?” Joel asks with a tilt of his head, his brow slightly furrowed.

“I’m assuming it has something to do with the silly little texts and pics I sent you to brighten up your day,” you say, feigning innocence. “Did you like them?” 

“You really think now’s the time to be a brat, huh?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Alright, then.” His eyes sparkle dangerously as he sits back in his chair and spreads his legs wider.

“You sure you got nothing else to say to me?”

“I’m—sorry?”

“No,” he tilts his head and you see the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you will be when I’m done with you.”

You bite your lip as your eyes focus on the visible bulge in Joel’s shorts, and try to suppress the huge grin that’s threatening to spread across your face. This is exactly what you wanted and you both know it.

“Hands and knees, baby,” Joel orders calmly and puts his hands on his thighs. “C’mere.”

You lower yourself on all fours without hesitation and crawl towards him slowly, making sure to sway your hips and never break eye contact. Joel’s the only person you’d put yourself in such a submissive position for and you revel in the exhilarating feeling it gives you.

Joel keeps his eyes trained on you, subtly rubbing his thighs as you come closer to where he’s needed you all day. His eyes are dark and full of need as he licks his lips and follows the mesmerizing movement of your body. He likes how you, despite your brattiness, know perfectly well where your place is. 

“Look at what you did,” he says, once you’re kneeling on all fours between his spread legs. He palms his throbbing cock over the fabric and your eyes widen a little, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“That's right, baby, you did this. And now you need to take responsibility for your actions.” He gently caresses your cheek, tracing your lips with his thumb.

When he presses on your lower lip, you instinctively open your mouth enough for his finger to slip inside. He presses on your tongue, admiring the feeling and your willingness to submit.

“Look at you,” he chuckles, gently rubbing his cock. “Such a little slut, always wants something in her mouth.”

He moves his thumb further along your tongue, causing you to furrow your brow and gag a little. “You couldn't help yourself, huh, just had to put on a show all day like the needy whore you are.” 

He takes his thumb out of your mouth and pulls his shorts all the way down, letting them fall on the floor next to his chair. His heavy cock flops against his lower belly, causing you to swallow and part your lips instinctively. Joel smirks at your reaction, enjoying the raw need sparkling in your eyes as he strokes himself slowly.

You start squirming, pressing your thighs together to alleviate at least some of the uncomfortable ache between your legs, and let out an almost inaudible whine as Joel continuously strokes up and down his length while looking at you curiously. 

He leans in and tilts your chin up, his dark eyes boring into you.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” He asks softly, feigning concern. He looks from you to his cock and back, raising an eyebrow. “All of this just because you’re a pathetic little cockslut with nothing else in her dumb little head than my cock. Isn’t that right, angel?”

You nod slowly, your lips slightly parted, hypnotized by Joel’s big eyes and filthy words.  

“Use your words, slut,” he growls, gripping the back of your neck to tilt your head up even more. 

“I just—wanted you so bad, I–” 

“Aww, of course you did,” he teases you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Tell me your safeword, angel.” 

He looks into your eyes intently as you say it out loud, then puts a soft kiss on your lips. You whimper when he withdraws, the feeling of his warm lips lingering. 

“Open up,” he orders with a tap of his fingers to your bottom lip. “Stick your tongue out for me.” 

You obey and do as he says, looking into his eyes expectantly. You watch in awe and pure need as the thick glob of saliva makes its way down from Joel’s mouth and lands on the back of your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel it run down your throat. 

“Swallow.” He gently puts a strand of hair behind your ear as you show him your empty mouth. “Good girl.”

You moan softly at his praise and furrow your brow when your eyes find his cock again. 

“You really want it, huh,” Joel purrs, trailing your neck and chest gently with his hands. When he brushes your nipples, you wince a little, eliciting a low chuckle from him. “Spread your legs, baby. Let me see your little pussy.” 

He sucks in a sharp breath, his cock twitching impatiently when you sit back on your heels and present your glistening folds.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs, tracing your belly all the way down to your mound and stopping right before touching your clit. “Must’ve been uncomfortable to sit in that all day, hm?” 

He gently pulls your lips apart with his thumbs and index fingers, inspecting you closely. “Your little clit is so swollen, baby, does it hurt?” 

“Mhm,” you whine, his touch so close to your neglected bundle of nerves torturing you beyond belief. “It–it hurts so bad, Sir.” 

“Hmm,” he searches your eyes, “and that’s why you thought it was a good idea to send me all those naughty messages?” He spreads your lips apart further, eliciting a long moan from you. “You thought I’d fuck you if you did?”

“Y–yes,” you stammer, your legs trembling, “I’m sor–”

You’re cut off when Joel lets go of your lips and swipes his fingers through your dripping wet folds agonizingly slowly, once, twice, three times, barely brushing your pulsating clit. 

Listening to the noises you make and feeling your hot cunt on his hand is enough to make him almost come, despite his cock not having any contact at the moment. His eyes never leave yours as you whimper desperately, his barely there touch enough to build your long overdue orgasm.

“Go on, angel,” he withdraws his hand and holds his hand up to your lips, “clean up the mess you made.”

He pushes his wet fingers into your mouth, forcing you to suck your own juices off of him. You do so eagerly, sucking and licking his fingers, moaning around them. 

“You would’ve sucked my cock in front of everyone if I had let you, huh.” You let out a desperate moan, feeling your pussy get wetter at the thought. “That’s right, baby,” Joel chuckles. “Show everyone you’re my little cockslut.”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, satisfied with the job you did, then grabs your chin hard, his wet fingers pressing into your hot cheeks.

“You want it so bad, baby? Then beg for it.” 

“Please,” you whine. “Please let me suck your cock, please, I–I want your cock so bad—”

“All yours, baby.”

He leans back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head, looking at you through lidded eyes. 

“Fuuuck, that’s it,” Joel groans as you start licking and sucking at his balls, then lightly trace the veins of his cock with your warm tongue, swirling it around the tip, licking up the salty precum. You look at him expectantly as you lick up and down his length, fondling his balls with your hand. 

He smiles at the needy look in your eyes, finding it unbelievably hot that you want to, need to hear his praise so badly even though it’s obvious that everything you do to him is and feels beyond perfect. 

“Good girl,” he says softly, eliciting a little whimper from you. “Now stop teasing and take it.”

You immediately hold him up by the base and take the tip into your mouth, sucking on it eagerly. You take him further, inch by inch, bobbing your head up and down his shaft until he’s nudging the back of your throat. Your eyes well over with tears as you gag around his cock. Joel groans in response, his whole body tensing as he tangles his hands in your hair.

You make a surprised sound when he leans over you and pushes your head down until your nose is rubbing his pubic hair, giving you no chance to move your head. He keeps his length buried deep inside you for a few seconds before pulling you up, a thick string of saliva mixed with precum connecting you two, only to push you right back down.

“Fuck, I love the sounds you make,” Joel pants as you choke and whine loudly. 

He pulls your head back up to let you catch your breath and make sure you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is. He knows from the look in your eyes that you are, but he wants to make sure before you continue. 

“What’s your color, angel?” 

You look at him with bleary eyes, but give him a dazed smile and whisper, “Green.”

Joel nods and caresses your wet cheeks, wiping away some of your tears with his thumbs. 

He traces your swollen lips with the head of his cock, loving the way his precum sticks to them. 

“Breathe through your nose, baby,” he pants. “Can’t have you passing out on me.”

You wrap your lips around his head, swirl your tongue around it, then bob your head again – messily, sloppily, just the way he likes it. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, thrusting his hips to slide in and out of your mouth, smiling at you and petting your hair. “Such a perfect little fleshlight.”

You tremble and moan around him, not entirely sure if his filthy mouth, his groaning, or the fact that he’s using you for his pleasure  is turning you on the most. You just know you love it when he holds your head steady and fucks your mouth roughly, taking what he wants from you, making you gag and choke, saliva and tears running down your cheeks, chin, neck, and body.

You look like a masterpiece. 

“I’m close, baby,” Joel pants, your perfect, wet mouth and the admiration he sees in your big, wet eyes making him tremble every time he thrusts his hips into you. You push him right over the edge when you squeeze his balls hard. 

He comes with a strangled groan, shooting rope after rope of warm cum down your throat and onto your tongue. You welcome it with eager moans, so far gone that you don’t realize what you’re doing until after it’s too late — you swallow it all without his permission.

Fatal mistake. 

Joel grabs you by your hair, pulling you off his pulsating cock, still breathing heavily.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?”

Your eyes widen in shock, your lip quivering. “I–I'm sorry, I–I forgot.”

“You forgot?” Joel sighs and raises his eyebrows. He loosens his grip in your hair and looks at your eyes welling up with tears. You stumble over your words as you keep apologizing over and over again. You’re so perfect like this. 

“What’s your color, baby?” 

“Green, Sir,” you sniffle. “It’s green.”

“Now what am I supposed to do with a fleshlight that doesn’t work right, hm?” He tilts your chin up and rubs it softly with his thumb. “Do you think you deserve to get fucked?”

“I’m—please, I'll be good, I promise,” you choke out through tears and hiccups. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, just please—”

Joel smirks and leans back in his chair. “No need to tell me that, angel. I know you’ll do anything.” He lifts his foot between your thighs, eliciting a small, needy noise from you when he presses it against your swollen cunt.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. All from being used, hm?”

“Yes, Sir,” you whine, wiping your cheeks and trying your hardest to stay still. “Thank you.”

“Such a pathetic little slut.” He rubs his foot against your folds, and you moan, closing your eyes, your lips trembling, your face hot from embarrassment and arousal. Joel presses harder and you cry out, your hips jerking instinctively. 

“Pathetic enough to hump my leg?”

He snorts when he sees the stunned look on your face. You are definitely startled, but you don't protest. Joel can see a mix of hesitation and need in your eyes, and he understands that he needs to push you.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he says, gently petting your hair, “so you better thank me for letting you come at all.”

He sighs and pulls your head back by your hair when you don’t answer fast enough. 

“Use your words, slut.”

“Th–thank you,” you whimper. “I–I just–” You trail off, too shocked and embarrassed to finish your sentence, your voice trembling as you babble unintelligibly.

You hear Joel say your name and feel him cup your cheeks. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

You sniffle and try to focus on his eyes. “Tell me your color,” he says gently, his deep voice soothing your nerves. 

“Still green,” you breathe, swallowing hard. 

He searches your eyes and nods before sitting back up and extending his leg a little.

“Go on, then.”

You look at the satisfied smirk on his face before taking a deep breath and scooting forward, adjusting yourself against Joel’s leg. Gripping Joel’s thigh for balance, you tilt your hips forward until your clit makes contact with his hairy leg. You shudder at the feeling, a needy little moan escaping your lips. 

Joel’s pupils are so blown, his eyes are completely black now. 

You slowly drag your hips upward and duck your head, embarrassed that you’re actually enjoying this – and that you’re this wet. After slowly rocking your hips up and down a few times, you can’t keep yourself from moaning anymore. It feels to fucking good.

You shift a little and allow yourself to set a pace that will make you come. You nuzzle your face against Joel’s thigh and don’t hold back anymore, rutting against his leg with abandon, chasing your release. 

“That’s it, angel,” Joel purrs, gently brushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. “You’re doing so well for me.”

You rock your hips against his leg over and over again, your brows furrowed, whimpering desperately as you grind your wet folds against Joel’s leg, the friction causing your whole body to shudder.

Joel fucking loves seeing you like this; pliant, obedient, wanting to be good so badly that you’d do anything to please him. Most of all, though, he loves how much you trust him. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he praises, tilting your chin up to look into your glazed over eyes. “My good girl.”

You moan at his words, your fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs, your hips jerking frantically, desperate for release. Joel smiles softly at your reaction, reveling in the fact that he's ruining you for anyone else.

He fucking delights in it.

“That’s right, angel. Keep looking at me with those beautiful eyes.”

You barely hear what he says as your breathing comes out in noisy, deep gasps, too far gone, too overwhelmed to feel embarrassed at fucking yourself on Joel’s leg. There are no thoughts left in your brain, your only focus now is chasing your climax.

“Feels good, huh? Such a spoiled brat, aren’t you,” he taunts, marveling at your blissed out expression and the sheen of sweat glistening on your naked body.

“You think you deserve to come, hm? Even though you’re just a dumb little whore, only good for taking my cock in all her holes?”

That’s almost enough right there to tip you over the edge. 

“Tell me what you are.”

You let out a choked sob, fresh tears making their way down your cheeks. Joel wipes them away with his thumbs as you stutter, “I’m–I’m your dumb little whore, Sir. I’m all yours — please, please–”

He gives you a warm smile as his dark eyes bore into. “Come for me, angel.”

You press your throbbing clit hard against him, humping his leg feverishly until the tension finally snaps and shockwaves grip your whole body, your legs trembling as you moan uncontrollably. Your walls contract around nothing as you collapse onto Joel’s thigh and start sobbing.

It’s all too much right now. 

He immediately draws you into his strong arms, lifting you up and cradling you. “Shh, sweetheart,” he purrs, holding you tight and stroking your hair, “you did so well. Are you alright, hm? You want me to go get you a towel?”

Your eyes widen at the suggestion of him leaving you, causing you to shake your head fervently, your tears flowing freely now as you gradually come down from your high. 

“Shh, it’s okay, baby” he coos, putting soft kisses on the top of your head and rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

You're still naked and Joel wants you to feel comfortable and warm, so he swivels you two towards the couch to snag the blanket and drape it over you. He holds you close, whispering into your hair how well you did and how good you are, intermittently pressing soft kisses on your wet face. 

You feel the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath, a comforting rhythm that wraps around you like a protective cocoon. The warmth emanating from his body seeps into yours, making you feel calm and protected. 

Joel’s not surprised that you need physical affection and closeness right now, knowing that humiliation is one of the most effective ways to make you fly – and crash.

Falling apart in front of somebody, allowing them to see you in such a raw, uninhibited state, is an incredibly vulnerable act.

Joel is not taking your trust lightly. 

When he sees you wipe your nose with your arm, he swivels you back to his desk and opens the drawer to get you some tissues. Your heart skips a beat when you see what else is inside, but you keep quiet. 

“Was I really good?” You mumble after listening to Joel’s calming heartbeat for a few minutes.

“You were perfect, baby,” he says softly, pressing a tender kiss on the crown of your head. 

“So, can you fuck me now?”

The vibrations of Joel’s chuckles reverberate beneath you, making you laugh yourself. 

“How about we make sure you drink enough and eat something first, hm?”

“Just say that your refractory period is getting longer, old man.” 

“Why, hello,” he laughs and pinches your sides, making you squeal, “the princess is back.” You lift your head to look into his eyes. His beautiful, warm eyes. “You think I’ll fuck you if you keep being a brat, hm?” 

“That’s exactly what I think. Because you always do. Because you love it.” 

“Wow,” he chuckles and shakes his head. “All this just now and you’re still sassing me?”

“Just admit you fucking love it, so we can move on and decide what we wanna have for dinner,” you murmur. 

Joel can’t hold back the beaming smile that’s spreading across his face.

Save for last time, you usually leave shortly after you’ve come down. He’ll sometimes ask if you want to stay a bit, but will never pressure you into doing so – even if it hurts him. 

And it does, sometimes, if he’s being honest. 

“Alright, alright,” he sighs deeply, his smile betraying his mocking tone. “I fucking love it when you’re a little brat and torture me all fucking day, making me sit in a fucking meeting for hours on end with a hard cock, listening to some rich fucks who want me to build some bullshit building for them.” 

You giggle at the description of his day and kiss his dimple. “I really am sorry, you know.”

“No you’re not,” he shakes his head. “Now, what are you in the mood for?”

“Can we, um, can we go eat the fattiest, unhealthiest junk food ever and then wash it down with huge cups of pure sugar, so we’re both gonna have a stomach ache for the next three days?” 

“Have I ever told you you’re perfect before?”

---

You step out of the shower, dry off, wash your face with Joel’s face wash and drink a glass of water. Joel put your bag outside the door when you were in the shower, giving you space to do your thing and going downstairs to take a shower there himself.

You’re kind of tired now, feeling a little burnt out.

You put on your panties and retrieve the comfy gym shorts you were smart enough to bring with you from your bag. They’re the only other clean piece of clothing besides the dress you could find in your drawer this morning.

“Joel?” You shout from the top of the stairs. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I borrow a t-shirt?” 

“Sure, darlin’. Just grab one you like.” 

“Thank you.” 

You smile and make your way to Joel’s bedroom. Opening the drawer, your eyes fall on a white shirt you’ve seen him wear many times. Don’t do it. You sigh defeatedly and lift the shirt up to your face, inhaling the unmistakable scent. 

Then you suddenly remember it. Fuck. You need to make sure. 

You put on the shirt and quickly walk to the office. Taking a deep breath and making sure Joel’s not watching you snoop through his things, you open the drawer. 

The polaroid feels strange in your hand as you lift it to take a closer look. 

It’s one of Tommy, you and Joel in it, from the night Tommy introduced you two. You don’t even remember taking this one, but now that you’re looking at it, you see something. It’s the way you’re smiling.

You turn the photo and read the handwritten note that catches your eye. 

when I met her

You swallow hard and put it back. It doesn’t mean anything. You hung the other polaroid, the one of only you and Joel, up in your apartment and that doesn’t mean anything either—right?

“Babe?” Joel’s voice pulls you back.

You turn around and look at him, startled. “I, uh, was just looking for some batteries. Couldn’t find any though.” 

“I got plenty downstairs,” he says with a tilt of his head. “Come on, let’s go.”

---

You’re sitting in a booth, munching on your burger, intermittently sipping your soda. You don’t even realize you haven’t answered Joel for the third time. 

“Are you sure everything’s okay, sweetheart?” Joel touches your arm, his brow furrowed. You look at his concerned face, his cute little frown, before putting down your burger with a sigh. 

“I, uh,” you start but can’t think of the right words. “I’m just feeling a little off these days, I guess. Work’s been stressful and, um, you–you’re gonna think I’m weird,” you murmur while picking at the fries on your plate. 

“Darlin’,” Joel sighs, taking your hand into his, “you’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met.” He chuckles when he sees your offended face. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

He rubs the back of your hand softly and searches your eyes. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

“It’s, um,” you clear your throat. “Do you ever get this feeling that there’s something looming?”

He tilts his head and looks at you curiously. “I’m not sure I follow, darlin’?”

“Like if you’re happy, do you ever feel like it’s not real, it can’t be real, and there’s something looming? Like there’s something just waiting to fuck everything up?” 

When he doesn’t answer, you avert your gaze and try to withdraw your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m killing the vi–”

“No, sweetheart. Hey, c’mere.” He extends both of his hands to you on the table and you give him yours to hold. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” he murmurs, “your question just caught me off guard a little.”

You softly rub his hand with your right thumb and study his features. He looks gorgeous with his tousled hair and his big cow eyes.

“Look, I know that happiness is hard to accept sometimes because we’re afraid of it not lasting. It may even seem easier to sabotage it preemptively, so we’re not disappointed or don’t get hurt when something bad does happen. And I also know that we sometimes don’t think we even deserve to be happy.”

Bingo. 

“But sweetheart, I need you to understand something,” he squeezes your hands gently, his sincere eyes boring into you.

“If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.” 

You try your best to blink away the tears that are forming in your eyes.

---

Thank you for reading! 🤍 part 4 || part 6 || series masterlist

[wrizard]

nedving modern au: a long-awaited kiss

talked myself into a tizzy regarding modern ned/jirv au c/o @irvingcoded over on twt here, in which john, pastor, meets ned, architect, during church renovations, and very slowly ruins his own (married with children) life. i couldn't stop thinking about it.

have this! i have edited it not at all!!

*

“oh, it’s perfect,” john marvels, tracing his fingertips over the tablet screen with reverence. the final window design: a work of art. glass, colour, light – fine angles, sunshine, abstract enough to please the artist in him, a perfect synthesis of contemporary and traditional. john’s guts fizz in delight. he zooms out, then in again, then carefully sets it back on the desk. ���it’s going to be beautiful – i can’t believe it, you’ve – you’re a miracle worker.”

edward shifts his shoulders the way he does when he’s flustered, and even goes charmingly pink about the ears. “i’m certainly glad you like it. i’m no painter or anything – most of it was off your sketches, i only made it a bit simpler, is all.”

john’s cheeks ache. he’s grinning, wide and real and easy as anything. he wants to laugh. he’s electric all over. he wants to – shout, or jump for joy, or fling his arms around edward’s shoulders in an embrace. there’s no one around to see them, not here in edward’s tiny office, not after hours; he gives in just a little, letting himself spin once in place.

edward laughs, sweet and warm. it’s a lovely laugh, the sort that carves those long dimples in his cheeks – john’s surprised him again. “it’s just a plan,” he says. “haven’t even found an artist. we’ll have to raise extra funds for the commissioning, but not too much. no need for any bake sales just yet.”

“bake sales,” john laughs, and grabs edward by the shoulders, gives him an enthusiastic shake. “i’ll – i’ll make a hundred trays of brownies, ned, a thousand, i don’t care! it’s perfect!”

that smile – edward’s ducking his head to hide it, the weasel, and john won’t have it, can’t stand to miss the brightness in his eyes, the sparkle that makes him look a decade younger. john lets his arms go. grabs his head instead. edward’s five o’clock shadow bristles against john’s palms as john tips him up to look properly. and – yes, goodness, those dark eyes glitter in the lamplight, the glow of the tablet turned to matching blocks of star-blue floating on deep chestnut-brown.

“you’re brilliant, edward,” says john. “you’re – oh, you talk such nonsense about yourself, you’re – brilliant. you’re a gift. god sent you to me as a gift.”

edward’s grin falters. his gaze darts back and forth between john’s eyes.

they’re very close together.

the giddiness swirling in john’s belly swoops up into his throat. edward’s lashes are so dark against the fairness of his skin. john ought to bother him to come out hiking again, soon. get some colour back into him. some of that light. all the warmth that’s inside him, burning, hidden under dark circles and deadlines and all those bizarre coffee drinks.

“john,” edward breathes, strangely.

john sways in closer. it feels – natural. easy. edward is so warm in his hands. this is what friends do, john thinks; they touch each other. he’s seen it. he remembers how george kissed edward on both cheeks, and how edward laughed and shoved playfully at george’s arm, not the sort of shove to push someone away but to bring them closer. what would it feel like, to kiss his cheek? what if –

tipping edward’s head to one side, john presses his lips to edward’s cheekbone.

it’s a peck, is all. a way to siphon off a fraction of the joy bubbling up in john’s lungs, his veins, his heart. an expression of the love he bears his friend. stubble pricked a bit at his lips, perfectly; edward was, of course, soft beneath the sharpest bits, and almost fever-hot against john’s mouth.

edward makes a tiny, quiet noise in the back of his throat.

“a miracle,” murmurs john, and, bowing to the sudden urge – no one to see them – no one to know – he dives in again, presses his face to the other side of edward’s, harder, deeper, nuzzling in, and this time when he pulls away he’s distantly surprised he isn’t shaking.

slow and careful, edward raises his hands up. wraps his long, slender fingers around john’s wrists. he’s staring. he’s staring at john. he’s breathing too quickly. his eyes are wide, but he blinks, a few times in a row, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

all at once, the words slip out of john’s mouth: “i prayed for you.”

edward’s thumb caresses the back of john’s wrist, and his brow furrows. “i’m fine, john, we’ve talked about this–”

“no, no, i, i prayed for you,” john insists, fingers tightening over edward’s face. “i asked for – a miracle. and then the next morning you showed up. you’re – he sent you, to fix this, to help me, and i…”

like a magnet, like gravity, john is pulled in. their noses brush.

john – kisses him.

it’s a peck. again. small. simple. friends do this, he knows, he’s seen maggie kiss her friends a thousand times, and edward is his best friend, his only friend, maybe, or at least the only person who’s ever made him feel so real, so himself. lips to lips. quick in, quick out.

he pulls away, pulse roaring. there is space between them again. not much. just enough for breath.

edward holds john’s wrists. his eyes have slipped closed. he looks – pained. like a martyr in an old masterwork. his lips are open. his lips are wet. his lips –

john kisses him.

john kisses him, and doesn’t pull back.

[ladykailitha]

If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too? Part 20

This is it my lovelies. It is done. I am so happy to have had you on this journey of this little idea that was supposed to be a little one shot that had Eddie being lifted on the stage by Steve and the band to play Master of Puppets and grown into this. This beautiful story of healing.

Thank you so much!

It gets a little spicy but nothing major.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16  Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

***

Steve liked his new house. He did. But he barely spent any time in it. He was always taking someone somewhere, working or at Eddie’s. Because Eddie’s house felt lived in. Homey.

So he does what he should have done all along. He takes Eddie shopping.

“Are you really sure you want me to help you decorate your new place, babe?” Eddie asked for the millionth time as he slid into the passenger seat of the BMW.

Steve grinned up at him. “Yes, because as much I love Robin and as much as I value Nancy’s opinion they would take over and it would be what colors they would want.”

“As opposed to me, how?” Eddie asked as Steve pulled away from the curb.

Steve smile was incandescent. “You would at least ask for my impute between two things you liked.”

Eddie blinked. “And the girls would just put whatever they wanted and you would end up with something that looked their rooms and not your place.”

Steve nodded. “And I don’t want that. Plus I like your place with Wayne. I want something that feels like home.”

Eddie smiled fondly at him. “I could do that, yeah.”

They pulled up to the department stores and looked around. Eddie asked him questions about what styles he liked and it became more about what he didn’t like. And though Eddie noticed the pattern, he was sure that Steve hadn’t.

It was anything but how his parents had decorated. No blues and no greys. No sad neutral colors. Steve gravitated to reds and yellows, bright browns.

Steve still had a lot of the government hush money, so that wasn’t an issue. It was more about knowing he could could afford to make a life for himself. And he wanted that life with Eddie. The fact that even though they had only been together a short time and Eddie felt the same? That was the dream, no doubt.

They bought furniture and rugs and kitchen stuff. But Steve also wanted to paint the house to match the new things he’d bought. So Eddie took him to the hardware store to look at paint swatches. Eddie had Steve pick out a few colors he liked because the light here at the store isn’t what the light would be like at home.

Home.

God Steve loved how that sounded coming out of Eddie’s mouth. Once they had gotten back to Steve’s car and he was sure no one was looking he whispered, “Say ‘home’ again, sunshine. I loved hearing you say it.”

Eddie smiled fondly. “Let’s go home, Stevie.”

Steve sighed happily and kissed the word from his lips. “Yeah, Eds. Let’s.”

*

That night he and Eddie sorted through the things they had delivered and putting everything where Steve wanted.

They flopped on the big comfy sofa with a laugh.

“Feeling better about the new place?” Eddie asked as Steve snuggled up under his arm.

“Yeah,” he murmured sleepily. “And with the painters coming in on Saturday, it’ll be even better.”

“This is still a pretty big place for one person, beautiful,” Eddie said. “Why did you get a four bedroom?”

Steve blushed deeply. “One room for me, a guest bedroom which I’m sure Max and Robin will fight over and Max will win, and an office.”

“That’s still only three rooms, sweetheart,” Eddie said. “What’s the other room for? Another guest bedroom?”

Steve shook his head. “A studio for you.”

Eddie peered down at Steve in awe. A Steve who was currently avoiding looking him in the eye. “Babe?”

“I know it’s too early,” Steve said, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ve barely been a couple for a couple of months and Wayne’s not going to want you to go so soon after he just got you back. But some day, I will ask you to move in with me and I’d hope you’d say yes.”

Eddie pulled Steve in tighter, holding on for dear life. How did he get so lucky to have this beautiful boy in love with him? He never thought he would have this. That he would get to have this. If he thought of the future, it was always slinking down back alleys with someone who was only there for a good time, but not a long time. Until he moved out of Indiana to some place more tolerant of his kind and then maybe he would settle down with someone.

And that person never looked like someone like Steve. Another metalhead, maybe. Someone with long hair and a penchant for being just as outrageous as Eddie. But by God he couldn’t imagine a life with anyone else. No one else filled his heart with such emotion and tenderness as this beautiful boy.

“Well,” Eddie said after a moment or two, “let me put your mind to rest, as soon as Uncle Wayne gets sick of me, I’m all yours, sweetheart. I’d move in in a heartbeat.”

Steve lifted his head to look Eddie in the eyes. “You mean that?”

Eddie kissed him gently. “Yeah, Stevie. People will probably tell us to slow down, but I think we both know what we want and what we want is each other.”

Steve nodded and settled back down on Eddie’s shoulder.

They learned the sofa was pretty good for naps, too.

*

Once everything was the way he wanted it, he opened his house to the Party like he had his parents’ house. And suddenly it felt like home. Friday nights were for D&D. Saturdays were for movie nights. There was always someone passing through, raiding the kitchen, invading the sofa, and just filling the space with people.

Eddie and the rest of the older kids graduated. Robin and Nancy dragged Eddie and Jonathan through to the finish line. But finish they did. Argyle happily coasted like he always did, with a smile on his face and a 4.0 grade point average.

And then it was summer vacation and there were swim parties that didn’t make Nancy and him sad. The new pool didn’t even look like the old one, and suddenly Steve was back in the water like an otter.

“How do you not burn?” Eddie asked after another successful pool party. He was counting the freckles on Steve’s back as they lay in Steve’s bed.

“Just lucky, I guess,” Steve murmured happily. “We can’t all have strikingly beautiful porcelain skin like yours.”

Eddie kissed the spot between the shoulder blades. “So I’ve been talking to Uncle Wayne...”

Steve hummed. “What about?”

“Me moving in here with you,” Eddie said softly.

It took every ounce of strength Steve had not to jump up and look Eddie in the eye. He wanted to see what his boyfriend’s face looked like, but he knew he had picked this moment deliberately. “What did he say?”

“He likes the idea, actually,” Eddie murmured against Steve’s skin, mouthing kisses along his spine.

Steve was struggling to concentrate on Eddie’s words and not the other thing his mouth was doing.

“When are you moving in then?” Steve asked, as desire pooled deep in his belly.

Eddie got to the tailbone and gripped Steve’s hips tightly. “He thinks we should wait until the six month mark at the very least.”

“So when the kids start up school again?” Steve asked, voice strained, trying not to buck his hips. Steve had kept to his six week rule with an iron will, but even after that they hadn’t really done much besides making out on the sofa.

This was charged and fuck if it didn’t feel amazing.

“Sounds perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered against the elastic band of Steve’s shorts.

Steve couldn’t take it anymore and lifted his hips, allowing Eddie to remove them.

“So beautiful...” Eddie murmured. He stood up and removed his clothes. He settled back down, straddling Steve’s hips.

Steve gripped his pillow tight as Eddie nibbled on his ear and neck. “Eddie...”

“I’m going to make you feel sooo good, sweetheart.”

*

Finally it was move in day. Steve had a special surprised planned for Eddie. He had gotten Wayne and Dustin to pack up all of Eddie’s things and had them bring them over to his house. And then he carefully arranged Eddie’s things so that they melded with his own. He would let Eddie change things up later if he wanted to. This was just to help Eddie deal with the move.

They had talked about it before hand. Steve asked which would be easier for him, to do all the packing himself and bring it over or to have someone he trusted to do it for him so that he could just come home and have it already for him.

Eddie took a couple of weeks deciding before he opted for the latter. He knew he would get distracted by all the memories and trinkets, it would never get done. And he didn’t want to do that to Steve.

But all Eddie knew was that at some point Steve would have all things and he would be living there instead of at Wayne’s. He would still have some of this things there, especially his bed, but everything else would be at theirs.

It was their six month dating anniversary which Eddie wasn’t sure they should celebrate because the point of anniversary is that they happened annually…but Steve managed to convince him that it was special because it meant that they had survived. That they both had.

Eddie walked in the front door and sighed happily. He could smell Steve cooking in the kitchen and followed his nose. The new kitchen already looked better then the old Harrington place, but once Steve had put his spin on it, it became homey. Eddie loved it. Even better, Wayne and Claudia the two home cooks loved it and that made Steve beam with pride.

Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Hey, babe. Whatcha making?”

Steve grinned and twisted so he could kiss Eddie properly. “Manicotti.”

Eddie hummed happily. “My favorite.”

“I know,” Steve said fondly. “You want to get the wine out the fridge?”

He nodded and went to go grab it, unwinding reluctantly from Steve’s side. Then he popped the cork and began setting the table.

They sat down to eat and chatted happily about their day.

When they were almost done, Eddie poked around the last bit of his food.

“What’s up, sunshine?” Steve asked, as he poured the rest of the wine into their glasses.

“I didn’t think you would ever be able to top how we got together,” Eddie said. “I mean, how do you top drinks with Ozzy and a signed guitar by all of Metallica?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah? So how did I do?”

“This is honestly better,” Eddie said. “That was great. Of course it was. But this is us. The two of us, enjoying a home cooked meal together, and I know you have a great evening planned. You became the best of me, sweetheart. I love you.”

Steve pressed their lips together and hummed contentedly. “You’re right, I do have a great evening planned, so let’s get to it.”

They watched movies until late and then Steve lead him to the bedroom, a bandanna around Eddie’s eyes.

Steve took his hand and gently pulled him into the room and pulled the bandanna off. Eddie gasped to see how the room was decorated with both of their things and that despite their different tastes it blended together really well.

“Stevie!” Eddie breathed. He turned around and gave Steve a big kiss on his lips. “It’s perfect.”

“Just like you, sunshine.”

“I never thought I would have this,” Eddie murmured. “I never thought I would actually graduate. I never thought I would have a boyfriend who adored me as much as I adored him. I never that I would have people who accepted me for who I was. And I have all that with you.”

“I feel the same, Eds,” Steve whispered. “You have no idea. I told Nancy I wanted a Winnebago and six kids, but I realized that that was what my parents wanted for me. Not what actually wanted. I have a lot of kids. Dustin, Will, Mike, Lucas, Erica, El, and Max are all my kids. And the day most of them graduate from high school, we’ll all pile into that Winnebago and travel to the ocean. Although, we might need two.”

Eddie laughed. “That sounds amazing, Steve.”

Steve smiled back. “Doesn’t it just?”

***

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[justforbooks]

Though most of us have only seen the posters, Edward Hopper's paintings have become icons of 20th-century American life. But what are they like in reality?

It feels as if you've always known them, the paintings of Edward Hopper. America seems unimaginable without them. Lone souls, empty sidewalks, baking brownstones, raking sunlight, the drug store at four in the morning, usherettes, clerks, the solitary salesman, hotel rooms on sluggish afternoons, heat sizzling outside, misery shut up indoors. People and places and the human condition: this is the genius (or cheap music) of Edward Hopper as everyone knows it.

Or is it? The flash of recognition, so crucial to each painting, is easily confused with familiarity. Unless you have travelled to America the chances are you may never have seen a Hopper in reality. There is only one in Britain (in a very private collection) and there hasn't been a show here in almost a generation. Even if you've seen a few originals, and survived the shock of finding them more rough-hewn and awkward than reproductions imply, and infinitely stronger, this retrospective at Tate Modern may amaze. It is a revelation in so many ways.

Reproduction shrivels Hopper. It turns his paintings into illustrations. Which, in turn, abets all the old clichés about his works: that they are theatrical tableaux, or film stills, for which you write the script, that they are enigmas waiting to be solved. Or that there is a narrative to each painting, a backstory to each loner, that can somehow be deduced from the details of clothes, props, mise en scène: a mystery fit for Hammett or Chandler.

People who write about Hopper like to float theories. The stenographer who longs to comfort her unhappily married boss in Office at Night. The once hopeful out-of-towner waiting for the bus back home in Automat. You could make a story out of any of his pictures, runs the line (a whole anthology exists, in fact, filled with just that). But I'm not sure his art needs or demands such interpretations. 'I hope it will not tell any obvious anecdotes,' fretted Hopper, with foresight, 'since none are intended.'

Take a work such as Sunday (1926). Condensed on a page, it would seem to show nothing more than a clerk in his shirtsleeves sitting on a deserted sidewalk nursing one elbow. Behind him is a shop front, before him the blank street. It seems to be morning. Perhaps he never went to bed or is forced to work Sundays; who knows? The man is a model, not a narrative.

What strikes is the painting itself, so drab in reproduction, so magical face to face. The way Hopper's sunlight pours through the window, scouring the emptiness of the shop - is there a more vacant room anywhere in art? The ambient distance it measures between the man and the world around him. The beautiful colour harmonies between shutter, boardwalk, blinds and street that shut him out, their subtlety contrasting with his brusque shirt, the only white in the picture. Everything isolates him, the lone worker, lost in thought, stark in the careless sunshine.

There are no trash cans, no signs, not even a spent butt in this image. It is pared to the bare epiphany. Elimination, rearrangement, cropping, distancing, angle: it's usual to think of Hopper in terms of cinematography. But as an editor he is on a par with Degas, and no sort of standard realist, representing the view with dogged fidelity. As Degas wrote, 'One reproduces only that which is necessary.'

Hopper studied Degas on one of the three trips he made to Paris in his youth; but the rest of his file is pretty thin. Born in 1882, the son of a dry goods salesman in Nyack, New York, he was a sometime illustrator and part-time painter who stopped painting for almost 10 years and didn't find form until his forties. Taciturn, frugal, gallingly self-contained from his wife's point of view, he lived in the same cold-water apartment in Manhattan from his marriage at 41 until his death in 1967. She was his only model.

Flipping through a book of Hopper's pictures might give the sense of lives snapped, scenes glimpsed, from the street or the El. But it would be wrong to think of him simply skimming images of strangers through windows as he rides the subway by night. Of course he caught what we catch - the freeze-frame behind glass, people who are outsiders to one another, seen from outside - but this is both more and less than he shows.

A great Hopper, in the paint, is all stillness, silence, solidity. Not the stillness of Vermeer, of stopped yet reverberating time, but a stillness all of his own: the hiatus, the lapse, the longueur, the moment between significant moments. A man staring out of the window while a girl sleeps beside him. A woman seated in the dead light of a theatre during intermission, blank as the safety curtain.

You don't hear the waves of Cape Cod in Hopper's seascapes or the cicadas in his landscapes. There are no crowds or sirens in his cities. All is silence; the mind turned in on itself, thinking, or not quite thinking, the only action. How implausible it would be to enter a Hopper and hear actual sound.

And the clock strikes 13 in any painting where motion is represented - such as the hopeless attempt at the nanny's fluttering headdress in New York Pavements. Hopper's pictures are not movies; the best of them have monumental solidity. In the architecture - his absolute gift, to make buildings as poignant and fascinating as people, if not more so; in the sunlight, pressing against houses, carpeting floors; even in the skies. Hopper's clouds never scud.

The cumulus hangs paralysed above Manhattan in Williamsburg Bridge (1928). I thought the painting would make me think of A Streetcar Named Desire - apartments rocked by incessant traffic - but it doesn't. It fairly scintillates with silence. Brownstones blaze against the pale sky: heavy stone, bright heat. Windows blink, or frown, or shutter against the light. At one of them, way up high, a trademark figure sits on the sill, on the threshold between within and without, dreaming, looking out, observing the world. Like a painter: Hopper's surrogate.

Except that this would be totally anomalous. Hopper never forces himself upon his art. There is no sense of his personality - aside, perhaps, from a steady empathy with the subjects - and any sign of his presence immediately deactivates the drama.

For there are weak paintings, even in a tremendous show like this. When the buildings become flimsy, for example, or the colour is ostentatiously over-keyed. When the woman turns into a glib dollybird, when the figures get clumsier and more caricatural in later years. When he repeats himself: all those people gazing off-stage, into another world, another life. When even the light houses face off into the distance, eyes averted. Hopper can be just too plangent.

Which feels fatal, along with everything else that limits the emotional complexity of his art, makes it seem 'expressive' of loneliness, sorrow and so forth. Such as the presence of more than one figure. Two and the scene becomes a dialogue, however mute or fractured; three and all sorts of too-obvious anecdotes present themselves, especially in the film noir works of the Forties. Even one person looking directly out of the frame, or just with a directional gaze, and the spell, the reverie, is broken.

A masterpiece such as Early Sunday Morning hasn't a single figure in it (Hopper judiciously deleted the hint of a face at a window). But it's one of the richest works he ever painted. The dawn light casting immense shadows down the long avenue, peopled only by a hydrant and a barber's pole; the intense colour of the brick facades; the many windows, with their separate characters; the hint of menace in the tall building edging into the picture. It's not portentous, like de Chirico City; it is the world seen anew as surpassingly strange and beautiful.

And crucial to its effect is the curious absence of Hopper. You see where he might have stood to make sketches but there's no sense of his watching presence; no directing of focus, attention. The corollary is also the case - that your own viewpoint is somehow vacant as well. Nobody is looking at this street, nobody is looking back: and how much more so with his paintings of people. That pensive woman in the third floor apartment? You don't think for one moment that Hopper has a ladder propped at her window; rather it's a kind of floating observation: so real, and yet like a dream.

'One was aware,' wrote a friend, 'of a slight displacement in his experience of his own person ... as when we are strange to ourselves, and become objects of our own contemplation.' That quality is crucial to the power of Hopper's art, as to the minds of his men and women. They are absorbed, abstracted, almost hypnotically disengaged from the world around them: and Hopper's gift goes outwards too. After a while you become one with them, rapt, still, solitary in your absorption as the people in these spellbinding pictures.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[shyweeb]

Some of the TR boys reacting to artist!f!reader gifting them a painting.

( This is my first time writing this kind of stuff here,please be patient with me,after all everyone starts somewhere right?I'm accepting tips and complain'ts about the writing since i want to improve mine 'kay? Thank you for reading,i won't disturb ya anymore,Enjoy the reading if you can lol )

Warnings: lil'suggestive phrases,some cursing

Married!reader (w the characters) lil'childish behavior of Mikey,fem!reader.lil' possessive Mikey

Characters: draken and Mikey (ya can blame my lazy ass for it being so short,sorry)

Draken : this man fucking loved spoiling you,so you though it would be nice to give him a painting of him,since you were with a free day on your schedule,you may be one of the only painters who had a really organized schedule for making your paintings tho.

- imagine coming back from his office and seeing you all dirty of paint because you spent hours making him a painting of him.

- this man was STUNNED,mouth open wide forming a perfect 'o' at the sight of a beautiful painting of him in his suit and holding a rose.

" Do you like it ? Love? "

- like it?he loved it! After you said it his response was almost immediate.

" It is beautiful,sunshine"

- you sighed from relief,you've spent a good amount of time on it.

- you got up from the chair that u were sitting and gave him a wide smile.

- seeing your state he let his office papers that he had in his left hand down the table in the living room and walked towards you.

"I might reward you for being so amazing,my love" he said.

- he brushed his thumb over your lips and held you by your waist with his other hand.

"ken! You'll get paint on your suit!"

- he chuckled softly seeing his lovely spouse being worried at him.

" There's no reason to worry over it sunshine,i can buy another one at any time I want" he said proudly,ken had entered a job in a company of a bank as a accounting inspector after quitting the 'gang thing' 4 years ago and had been being promoted over and over since then and right now he was the  vice-CEO of the company.

"Just because you have a lot of money it doesn't mean you can spend it with whatever y-" you were interrupted by him kissing your lips.

- he chuckled again after starring into your flustered face, he would describe you as a blushing mess from all the redness of your cheeks,he found it frickin' adorable.

"Fuck...darlin' let's go wash up m'kay?" He whispered the first word and before you could say something he already had picked you up by wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck before putting his hands under your thighs lifting you up and walking towards the bathroom.

This was going to be a looong shower.

Mikey : you were the one who spoiled him in this relationship most of the times 'cause he loved being a brat whenever he's bored when he's not taking care of boten, and when he found out that you could make painting's he wouldn't stop bothering you to make one of him,and then you give up and started making one in secret so that u could surprise him.

- He came home tired after another day "working" and was surprised to see you asleep in the couch of the living room with a painting of him and yourself behind you.

- let's say that he was almost jumping of joy in the moment but restrained himself because you were sleeping.

- he decided to at least say thanks to you,what type of husband would he be if he didn't?

- he carefully walked towards you and Took out his gloves using his teeth then he passed his fingers through your hair and put aside a strand of it that was in your face before kissing your forehead

"Hey pumpkin pie, i just got home and I've seen what you did for me, That's frickin' beautiful babe, I want to gift you something too...what do you think about some Gucci or Prada?"

- you awoken by hearing his soft voice and smiled at him,he loved gifts and even more if they were made by yourself.

"No need to buy anything manjiro,i did it because I was bored and remembered that you wanted one painting of yourself so I made it...i just put myself in it though,i hope you don't care about it 'kay?"

- seeing you saying to don't care about you he frowned and pouted before putting his hands on your cheeks and started kissing all over your face.

- how could you tell him to don't care about you? Didn't he made it clear that you were his most precious property? Maybe he needed to give you even more attention then.

"Don't say that sweetheart, you're everything for me my love... my life,my heart and my mind...i would give it all for you,you being there just made the painting even more special m'kay?"

- you smiled softly at him and Nodded.

" Since i already showed you the painting why don't we watch something on the TV then Manjiro?"

- he loved watching cartoons with you when he got home.

- he quickly nodded and took a seat near you on the big couch on the living room.

"What should we watch then Mr.sano?"

- he absolutely loved hearing you say his surname,so he decided to mess with you a little.

" SpongeBob! Let's watch SpongeBob Mrs.sano"

- he knew you would be absolutely flustered when he called you by your new surname,since you were married by only 2 months

- he was right,you didn't even knew how to say something back to him 'cause you were occupied trying to don't have a heart attack

"Manjiro!please don't do it again, it's the 6th time today!"

- you were stumbling on your words and started Stuttering between the phrase.

- Ngl,he loved being stubborn just to see you like this

- he chuckled and started crawling to you before he hugged you and started planting kisses all over your face.

- you hugged him back and smiled softly seeing your handsome husband giving you love and attention.

"C'mon babe the cartoon will start, didn't u wanted to watch SpongeBob?"

- he stopped the kisses and stayed hugging you but put his attention to the tv were the cartoon was starting and smiled widely like a kid.

- you chuckled again at the sight of your husband,a grown up man being happy watching cartoons.

- the only thing u were sure was that he was the one,he was yours and you were his...forever,u would be Mrs. And Mr. Sano.

Gonna stop this one right here cuz I'm lazy sorry buddies,but I promise to do a second part of this okay?love ya<3

[ysmpainting]

A glimpse into the Art of Exterior Painting with YSM Painting on the Sunshine Coast

The Sunshine Coast’s stunning scenery and bustling communities mean that it’s a canvas as welcoming to painters as it is to buyers, and the exterior of a house or business carries the same message of identity and style as the interiors. That is why YSM Painting is making waves on the Sunshine Coast, with painters offering beautifying services that weave the concepts of skill and art together to give exteriors a fresh look. In this blog, we will cover what makes YSM Painting your best bet for Painters on the Sunshine Coast, focusing on exterior painting services in the Sunshine Coast.

At YSM Painting, we take our work seriously – and so should you. When you choose us for exterior Painting on the Sunshine Coast, you’re not just getting a fresh coat of paint. You’re getting the harmony between architecture and landscape, enhanced durability against the elements, and a true reflection of your personality. Your property will shine brighter when you hire the professionals at YSM Painting. That’s because we never cut corners. We take pride in every detail and add a touch of quality and care to the experience of living and working on this fantastic coast.

A Spectrum of Colours and Services

When it comes to exterior Painting in this lively Sunshine Coast, choosing the best painters for the business requires a careful evaluation. YSM Painting, with a broad offering of services for people here on the Sunshine Coast, can help turn your house into a harmonious mix of murals, colours and textures as they aim for a living landscape.

Their bespoke service begins with an extensive consultation with each client. This helps establish and align the vision for the final Painting and ensures that all the client’s needs are met and exceeded beyond expectations. YSM Painting only uses the highest grade of material and employs the highest safety standards in its service delivery. Whether it is a small cottage that faces the beach or a high-rise commercial property in the city, YSM painting brings the same passion and precision, and every single project is regarded as a masterpiece.

The Importance of Professional Exterior Painting Services on the Sunshine Coast

As beautiful as the external environment is, especially regarding beaches and all the activities the Sunshine Coast offers, it can be challenging. External surfaces must be exposed to salty sea air, high humidity, and intense sun, so exterior paints and processes must be long-lasting, weatherproof, or UV-protected while still looking great. With this type of work – usually quite challenging, we help people who use professional Exterior Painting Services In Sunshine Coast��to get their homes, offices, garages, windows, doors and pretty much anything else painted to look fabulous while retaining the functionality necessary to continue working.

YSM Painting will study your Sunshine Coast exterior Painting before starting any work. Painters with an eye for the local weather patterns and architectural styles of other neighbouring buildings will assess your property. In this fashion, they’ll advise you on ideal products and techniques. They’ll ensure that your property’s colour scheme, durability, and longevity are precisely within the specifications of the home or the business.

A Testament to Quality and Reliability

This is what makes YSM Painting the best painter on the Sunshine Coast. Dedication to quality, reliability, and safety, as well as delivering what’s promised on time and within budget, are part of YSM’s corporate DNA. It also shows in the feedback we receive every day from ecstatic clients – whether residential or commercial – who repeatedly call upon us for interior or Exterior Painting on the Sunshine Coast. You can’t get a better testimonial than repeat business.

In an industry that values results over rhetoric, the YSM Painting approach leaves an impression as lasting as any finish. We’re taking relationships as seriously as our results. The team at YSM Painting offer more than just a simple coat of paint. Our reputation is a shining example that, in an industry where trust and finishes matter more than words, results speak for themselves. For expert exterior painting services on the Sunshine Coast, look no further than YSM Painting.

Painting the Future

The team at YSM Painting will undoubtedly continue to innovate, becoming better, more sustainable and more client-satisfying as home and business owners on the Sunshine Coast will, for years to come, continue to paint the future through the creations of YSM Painting. YSM Painting will always aim to exceed their clients’ expectations. Hope to hear from you soon!

The impact of your exterior home or business can be transformational when you invest in professional and affordable exterior painting services. YSM Painting understands how to get the most out of your exterior home or business painting experience. With the expertise and professionalism that can only be so when you have a passion for exterior Painting, they turn a simple paint job into a stunning paint transformation. YSM Painting offers premium Exterior Painting Services on the Sunshine Coast that turn around residential and business projects quickly. While you may be attracted to the idea that exterior Painting boosts the value of your home or building, many are fixated on the energy-saving benefits exterior home and business painting provides. Let’s face it: the climate in most places, especially in Australia, attacks your home directly, which wears out your paint before time. Investing in exterior Painting is not a matter of choice at this juncture; it is a matter of understanding the long-term investment that exterior Painting makes against the elements that assault your home. YSM Painting offers a wide range of exterior painting services on the Sunshine Coast that cater to the needs of many people. Your property is not a painting venture but a transformation into your dream home or business. Whether refreshing your home to boost resale value, upgrading your investment with professional Painting, or elevating your business above the rest in your neighbourhood, YSM Painting is the name you trust for exterior Painting remodelling in the Sunshine Coast.

Let the change start with you. With a statement as bold and colourful as the community, let YSM Painting paint your property to showcase its best and provide the most durable protection from the elements for years to come. For all of your exterior Painting needs in the Sunshine Coast, you’ve hit the right note—YSM Painting. Every brushstroke is another step to perfection.

[hearts1ckness]

*cracks knuckles*

in regards to listener characters specifically:

i talk ab it a bit but babe is rich. like. stupid rich. like they own the company they met asher at, rich. & asher literally has no idea till he goes to their place for the first time & it’s this fancy ass apartment

DARLIN IS CHEROKEE & DISABLED (they’re just like me fr.) also they have heterochomia & the ability to cook when they want to

angel’s an accountant. they’re the opposite of me in the sense of being good with numbers, which baffles david bc they’re shit with them in regards to cooking

FREELANCER IS TRANS & GREEK & are also in love deftones & are obsessed with stars. they make a MEAN cheese pie & about killed lasko the first time he had it bc it was so good??

they also had younger siblings back home in greece, which is why they’re so good with caelum. they’re the oldest of three.

honey is a plant parent & freelance photographer. they met guy because they attended the same college comp class.

besite (blake’s listener) is dying of their own volition & blake is obviously not okay with that. they also met in childhood while they were hospitalized

sweetheart is humanborn & spent their teens in a psych ward (for reasons relating to my ad-libbed lora expansion on humanborns/latents). they’re also tatted as fuck. like im talking massive back & thigh tats, kinda tatted as fuck. also they quit their job at the department after the inversion & it’s fallout (sorry erik i don’t make cop ocs🤷‍♀️)

obscura (morgan’s listener) has a mild case of agoraphobia due to their nature as a seer, so a lot of their meetings post introduction are at their house

sunshine is a pianist. they met elliott bc they were both in the school orchestra (he’s a violinist)

starlight is an astrologist. they teach astrology/astronomy at a human community college. they knew leighton (baby) prior to both of their disappearances

cutie is also a pianist, but they’re primarily a sketching artist. they frequent a coffee shop down the street from the department offices about 3-4 times a full calendar week to just sit and people watch (& listen.) they’re also awful with boundaries due to the generational gift of telepathy, but are working through it in therapy

lovely comes from old money, but is estranged from their family so they don’t have access to any of it. they’re also a painter, which has been their primary source of income (as well as coping skill) since they were 18

bright eyes is borderline & cherokee (they’re just like me fr.) they’re also 5’9” & is taller than vincent & sam when they wear their platforms. also they’re a lesbian.

(pls note i have not listened to ivan’s series i just like traumatizing characters LMAO) baby was one of the highest ranking employees at their job, so their disappearance was a mess to clean up for the department due to their status. they also prefer glazed donuts over everything else & are anemic.

coworker (cam’s listener) works in covert upkeep. their job is to handle covert breaks, which is why the inversion took such a toll on them. it was their job to cover it up.

warden is the very definition of the “arent u tired of being nice?? don’t u wanna go apeshit?” also i subscribe to the “cam/warden/sweetheart bff trio” hc & they helped sweetheart out in the early stages of their relationship with milo bc of their ✨trauma✨

but in my own characters:

bright’s girlfriend isn’t convinced they “disappeared,” & is actively becoming a risk to covert because of how relentless her searching is (alba zera how i adore u)

sierra doesn’t often make an effort to socialize with her fellow professors at DAMN. she sees no point, she enjoys her peace, solitude, and freedom to do whatever she wants, when she wants. so then why is she making such a concerted effort to befriend lasko when no one else is?

venus doesn’t know much about the world. other than the fact that she’s an alcoholic, she’s getting visions of shit she has no understanding of, and the older gentlemen that frequents her 24 hour bookstore is not in his mid-thirties

the solaires have a demon watching them. they have since william took his charge under his wing. they just don’t know they have a demon watching them

also william has had beef with a vampire clan of lesbians bc their leader took his bitch like. 100 years ago & hes petty & their leader is a gloater LMAO

Im gonna need everyone who sees this to info dump to me about the redacted ocs right now. They are all so cool and I love them sm

[localpaintersau]

Hire the Best Painters in Melbourne for Safe and Decorative Commercial Painting

Renowned painting companies offer the best painters in Melbourne for residential and commercial painting and decorating services at reasonable prices.  These businesses assert these experienced painters can change the look and feel of your office or apartment with their high-class interior and exterior painting services. These companies guarantee that they will paint the interior walls of your house or the exterior walls of your office with care and full dedication. Their dedicated house painters can deliver timely painting and decoration services without loosing any quality and finish.  They can provide thorough painting irrespective of the size or type of house or newly built or renovating your house.

These painting businesses also offer high-quality commercial painting in Sunshine to boost the aesthetics of your house or update the paint work of your commercial buildings.   Their experienced commercial painters in Sunshine can deliver stylish commercial painting for office, showrooms and other commercial places.  They guarantee that they have the expert manpower as well as modern painting tools to perform the tasks without any risks and hassle.  They assert their painting services can be arranged according to per your convenience so that your regular office works would not be interrupted. In addition to interior and exterior painting services they also provide a cost-effective wood rot repair services in Sunshine. 

Importance of Hiring the Best Expert Painters:

Reliable studies suggest that hiring a professional painter helps you save money in addition to staying within your budget. Keep in mind that quality painting requires specific tools including ladders, good paint brushes, brush extenders, caulking guns, and drop cloths.  You can avoid the stress associated with a painting project by hiring a painting specialist. Additionally, it guarantees that your painting project will be completed more quickly. You have also a tonne of free time to spend with your loved ones or engage in amazing activities.  It is advisable to engage a top-notch professional painter if you want your home to radiate professionalism when it comes to décor through painting.  Professional painters are well-versed in accomplishing elaborate details and designs during a painting service that might seem rather difficult if not impossible if you DIY.

In conclusion, paining businesses offer high-quality painting and decorating services for residential and commercial clients.  Anyone looking for these services should contact a local painting company.

Source

[petewentzisblack1312]

hii! here's my other piece from the zine Sing It Like The Kids That Are Mean To You (created by @thrashbeatles and laid out by @birdloaf, get your physical copy here (when its in stock) and your digital copy here)

Pete Wentz is, in many ways, the driving force behind Fall Out Boy, and he is a biracial black man. It is no surprise, then, that blackness is ever-present within the band’s art, through genre, through lyrics, through politics. Let’s talk about how race colours their work.

            To start, black genre influences are scattered throughout the band’s discography. The album art of Take This to Your Grave is an homage to John Coltrane’s iconic album Blue Train. Infinity on High is filled to the brim with funk, soul and R&B influences on songs like I’m Like a Lawyer with the Way I’m Always Trying to Get You Off (Me & You) and This Ain’t a Scene, It’s an Arms Race. American Beauty/American Psycho was an experiment in emulating mixtape culture, filled with samples and electronic beats, and getting its own remix album, Make America Psycho Again. M A  N   I    A drew its influence from dancehall and reggae, especially on Sunshine Riptide and HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T. They haven’t been shy about incorporating black genres into their work, and in fact, it seems to be a staple for them.

            Additionally, Pete Wentz’s lyricism in and of itself is in fact heavily influenced by black art, and one could argue it is quintessentially the work of a black poet. In his lyrics are strategic plays on words, inversions and remixes of classic phrases, and an endless stream of cultural references, all akin to the wit and flow of a rapper. Think lines like “I’m a painter and I’m drawing a blank,” or “You take the full, full truth and you pour some out.” Indeed, in his words you’ll even find braggadocio, a staple in hip hop, though his comes with a helping of self-deprecation, like in the line “Signing off, I’m alright in bed but I’m better with a pen/The kid was alright then it went to his head.” This is arguably a feature which endears so many people to his work, and it is the one which shows his blackness most evidently.

            Finally, while Fall Out Boy itself is not an overtly political act, the band has at times used their music to espouse black politics. In You’re Crashing, But You’re No Wave, the lyrics tell the story of Fred Hampton Jr’s conviction for aggravated arson following the 1992 LA riots protesting the acquittal of the police officers who murdered Rodney King. The song Novocaine also deals with black politics, being inspired by the murder of Trayvon Martin and primarily about the corruption of and threat posed by the police to black youth.

            The core idea behind Fall Out Boy is to make music “for the kids who feel like they don’t fit in anywhere”. When that sentiment is espoused by a man who grew up as part of the only black family in his neighbourhood, it gains a whole new meaning. Fall Out Boy is, in a very real way, for niggas.

[alluringjae]

disclaimer:  no copying, reposting, translating or uploading as your own on other platforms. if you’re underage, don’t interact with any of my stories that have mature themes/warnings (as stated in the beginning). all these stories are fictional.

key:   ∅ angst | ❀ fluff | ♱ mature | ✔ completed | ♯ ongoing

last update: august 6, 2022

💎 LONG FICS | ONE SHOTS | SERIES

QUEEN OF HEARTS ∅ ❀ ♯

[ one ] ➙ [ two ]

for the first time, one of your star students hasn’t been fetched right after class. but when she finally does, you weren’t expecting such a fine man to be her father.

💎 COOKIE CUTS series of extra scenes from all i do is wait ∅

[ 11:23 ]

💎 LONG FICS | ONE SHOTS | SERIES

WRAP IT UP (OR OFF EACH OTHER) ❀ ♱

after a fun-filled day with your kids, alone time with your husband yuta has been bestowed upon you. whether it be wrapping more gifts as “santa”, recapping days of your lives or exchanging couple gifts, it can also get a little… frisky. but hush, the kids are sleeping upstairs.

💎 LONG FICS | ONE SHOTS | SERIES

ALL I DO IS WAIT ∅ ❀ ♱

one day, kim doyoung was alive. the next, he wasn’t. he left you and the world too soon, but he made a promise: to look out and wait for you until the very end.

SO CLOSE  ∅ ❀

sequel to all i do is wait

those who were unlucky to live fully in their previous lives are given another chance in the next if the deities believe that they are deserving. unbeknownst to them before fully crossing the bridge, they get to live under the same names with similar interests.

💎 COOKIE CUTS series of extra scenes from all i do is wait ∅ ❀ ✔

[ 22:38 ] ➙ [ 23:28 ] ➙ [ 23:45 ]

💎 LONG FICS | ONE SHOTS | SERIES

ALL YOURS ∅ ❀ ♱

just how long will you remain stubborn to your feelings over your bodyguard?

IT’S A ROYAL ORDER ♱

one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?

AU COURS DE L’ÉTÉ  ❀ ♱

this is a story of an exhausted painter who needed a breather from the hectic city life. so aside from moving to the countryside, the needed air in your lungs also came in the form of a person. this summer meant for pure relaxation, perhaps your heart may dive into him too.

UNFASHIONABLY LATE ♱

when sexy time calls, you gotta answer it. no matter where you are and what you’re doing.

WHERE DOES YOUR LOYALTY LIE? ♱

you can’t have both sides of the coin, yet a cunning gryffindor has his ways to get under your skin. may it be on campus or in the bedroom.

SAVE YOUR TEARS  ∅ ♱

from going together against the world in your rebellious teenage years, it was you and your best friend against each other as adults. but nostalgia makes a detour before you go head-to-head. and perhaps, it get you to confess your deepest affections for each other before it’s too late.

HELLO AGAIN, MY SUNSHINE ❀ ∅

there’s no more running away when you’re thriving in the fashion industry, yet it’s exactly what you want to do when you encounter your first love after a decade in your high school reunion.

(IM)PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE ❀ ♱

a shift in your new normal occurs when you reported to your work office after 2 years, and your boyfriend fails to hide his impatience the second you arrive home.

OPEN YOUR LEGS, NOT YOUR BIBLE  ∅ ♱

what happens when the demon’s favorite son is also an angelic piece of heaven the Lord speaks of? he’s so good no wonder your innocent bible is discarded, like your drenched panties.

SINFULLY VOWED TO YOU  ❀ ∅ ♱

sequel to open your legs, not your bible

how far will you go for love? perhaps to the point you’re bound for marriage, but the groom you seek isn’t the one your heart beats for. and desperately, you must gamble everything without regrets.

💎 TIMESTAMPS 

[20:50]  ∅ ❀

2k words | parent trap!au

💎 VERO’S BIRTHDAY MONTH SPECIAL

[ one ]

💎 LONG FICS | ONE SHOTS | SERIES

UNTIL DAWN ∅ ❀ ♱ ✔

[ one ] ➙ [ two ]

basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

💎 VERO’S BIRTHDAY MONTH SPECIAL

[ one ] ➙ [ two ]

copyright © 2021 by alluringjae.

[ts4-bachelorblog]

Genevieve, General Practitioner Traits: Self-Assured, Ambitious, Outgoing, Alluring, Gregarious, Great Kisser Aspiration: Friend of the World

Like many of the women on this season, Genevieve tried a failed hand on Love Island. Dumped while in a friendship couple, she has not given up on finding that special connection.

Jade, Office Assistant / Eva, Unemployed Traits: Neat, Ambitious, Outgoing, Business Savvy / Hot-Headed, Materialistic, Romantic, Alluring Aspirations: Mansion Baron / Serial Romantic

Jade and Eva are best friends, housemates, and members of the Partihaus club in Windenburg. They live to drink, dance, and flirt on repeat. Now that they have entered the ultimate flirt-off, will they stay besties, or let a man get in the way? 

Deandra, Mixologist Traits: Materialistic, Mean, Hot-Headed, Self-Absorbed, Shameless, Alcohol Heavyweight Aspiration: Joke Star

"Dee" lives in San Myshuno with her lowlife dad, twin brother, and friends. She applied to the show because vampirism seemed more appealing than her dead-end job and everyday routine of shenanigans, but when the gang mocked her for her audition, she swore to win and drain them all out of pure revenge.

Dorothy, Grocery Store Owner Traits: Green Fiend, Squeamish, Dog Lover, Spa Membership Aspiration: Zen Guru

On a typical day, Dorothy can be found running the grocery cart in Henford-on-Bagley. She lives a simple life and wants to broaden her horizons. Hopefully her squeamish stomach can handle the vampire life.

Kayla, Minor Leaguer / Marley, Unemployed Traits: Active, Foodie, Loves Outdoors, High Metabolism / Bookworm, Mean, Cat Lover, Dastardly Aspirations: Bodybuilder / Public Enemy

A B-list athlete and an A-list heiress with a love of mischief, Kayla and Marley share a bougie apartment in San Myshuno. Fame and a demanding career have proven barriers to finding love, and they hope the Bachelor will give them a fair shot.

Marisol, Student Traits: Self-Assured, Dance Machine, Jealous, Cheerful, Bookworm, Quick Learner Aspiration: Academic

Marisol was quickly dumped from her time on Love Island. Now, she is busy studying for her law career... but not too busy to look for love. All she needs is lots and lots of coffee.

Angela, Student / Lilith, Student Traits: Neat, Foodie, Art Lover, Good, Muser / Slob, Loner, Kleptomaniac, Adventurous, Evil, Dastardly Aspirations: Painter Extraordinaire / Public Enemy

The Pleasant twins may look identical, but they are opposites in every other way. Living together between their competing campuses, Angela studies art history, and Lilith majors in villainy. Are Dracula and Lilith a perfect match, or will opposites attract?

Elisa, Style Influencer Traits: Dance Machine, Woohoo Lover, Cheerful, Self-Assured, High-Maintenance, Alcohol Heavyweight, Alluring Aspiration: Serial Romantic

Elisa had two unsuccessful relationships during her Love Island experience. Frankly, she left the show tense from a lack of woohoo. Will the Bachelor be able to fulfill her needs?

Luanne, Retail Employee Traits: Active, Good, Romantic, Alcohol Heavyweight, Alluring Aspiration: Soulmate

Luanne is a beam of sunshine despite her treacherous life. With an incarcerated mother, an absentee father, and a dead boyfriend, all she has left are her aunt, uncle and little cousin who have generously taken her in. Now that Luanne is getting back on her feet, she has jumped on the Bachelor bandwagon. Why not, right?

Sammi, Imaginative Imagist / Hope, Culture Columnist / Cherry, Guest Star Traits: Dance Machine, Outgoing, Artist, Great Kisser, Alluring, Muser / Hates Children, Creative, Jealous, Entrepreneurial, Business Savvy, Great Kisser, Alluring / Dance Machine, Self-Assured, Woohoo Lover, Beguiling, Alluring, Muser Aspirations: Master Maker / Fabulously Wealthy / Master Actress

Sammi, Hope, and Cherry have three major things in common: they live together, they love to have fun, and they are all Love Island castoffs. Sammi explored some hot romances on the show and made it to the final five before her couple was dumped. Hope joined the show as a Casa Amor girl, and made it no further. Cherry was dumped when she was left single after two failed partnerships. The three never met on the show, but they found a great friendship afterwards. Now, they are a force to be reckoned with.

Allegra, Mixologist Traits: High-Maintenance, Outgoing, Materialistic, Mean, Romantic, Alluring Aspiration: Master Mixologist

Allegra frequents the burn unit. After her boyfriend cheated on her, she appeared on Love Island only to be stolen from her partner (who is now with someone else) and later dumped. Then, she had a fling with Dee's brother, who played her. Allegra thinks vampirism will complement her night owl lifestyle…and, she won’t be able to feel burns anymore. She is here to take what she wants, and this time she will let nothing get in her way.

Jen, Style Influencer / Chelsea, Interior Decorator Traits: Creative, Cheerful, Jealous, Alluring / Creative, Cheerful, Goofball, Gregarious, Incredibly Friendly Aspirations: Soulmate / Neighborhood Confidante

Jen and Chelsea are also Love Island castoffs. Chelsea had an uneventful run, but Jen was dumped from the villa heartbroken after three serious partnerships. Now, they are both ready to try again.

Week 1: Season Premier

Meet the Bachelor:

Count Dracula, Retired (Traits: Gloomy, Art Lover, Evil, Romantic, Genius, Brave, Great Kisser, Alluring, Quick Learner) Aspiration: Soulmate

A powerful, old vampire, Dracula has been alone in Forgotten Hollow for a very long time.

"I've had a long life, a violent one. I have survived horrific battles and suffered great losses. I'm tired...

I've spent my time mastering so many things. I can do whatever I want. I can walk in the sun. But there is just one thing my life is still missing...

One person I still haven't found. One woman to complete me. To show me the ways of modern love, to join me in a life of vampirism and spend eternity by my side. I know she's out there. And I'm ready to find her."

Will Dracula get his wish? Perhaps. But before we find out, let's meet some of the women who will join him on his quest for love...

[syrupwit]

"Deeply Morbid" by Stevie Smith

Deeply morbid deeply morbid was the girl who typed the letters Always out of office hours running with her social betters But when daylight and the darkness of the office closed about her Not for this ah not for this her office colleagues came to doubt her It was that look within her eye Why did it always seem to say goodbye?

Joan her name was and at lunchtime Solitary solitary She would go and watch the pictures In the National Gallery All alone all alone This time with no friend beside her She would go and watch the pictures All alone.

Will she leave her office colleagues Will she leave her evening pleasures Toil within a friendly bureau Running later in her leisure? All alone all alone Before the pictures she seems turned to stone.

Close upon the Turner pictures Closer than a thought may go Hangs her eye and all the colours Leap into a special glow All for her, all alone All for her, all for Joan.

First the canvas where the ocean Like a mighty animal With a really wicked motion Leaps for sailors’ funeral

Holds her panting. Oh the creature Oh the wicked virile thing With its skin of fleck and shadow Stretching tightening over him. Wild yet captured wild yet captured By the painter, Joan is quite enraptured.

Now she edges from the canvas To another loved more dearly Where the awful light of purest Sunshine falls across the spray, There the burning coasts of fancy Open to her pleasure lay. All alone, all alone Come away, come away All alone.

Lady Mary, Lady Kitty The Honourable Featherstonehaugh Polly Tommy from the office Which of these shall hold her now? Come away, come away All alone.

The spray reached out and sucked her in It was a hardly noticed thing That Joan was there and is not now (Oh go and tell young Featherstonehaugh) Gone away, gone away All alone.

She stood up straight The sun fell down There was no more of London Town She went upon the painted shore And there she walks for ever more Happy quite Beaming bright In a happy happy light All alone.

They say she was a morbid girl, no doubt of it And what befell her clearly grew out of it But I say she’s a lucky one To walk for ever in that sun And as I bless sweet Turner’s name I wish that I could do the same.

[trekscribbles]

Chapter 3—Triple Threat: A Stone Triplet Fic

Fandoms: Leverage/Leverage Redemption, Librarians, and Almost Paradise

Cross-Posted: AO3 and FF

Summary: Eliot and Jake are both in the Philippines for separate jobs that turn out to be related. Kai takes the existence of Alex's brothers as a personal attack on her mental health. Ernesto happily goes along for the ride.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Jacob Stone needed a vacation. He wasn't sure what it was that was eating at him, but he could feel it building up, weighing on his patience and fraying at his nerves. He'd been snapping at the others more than usual—at Ezekiel, mostly—and while he knew it wasn't fair, he couldn't seem to control himself. And he'd spent decades perfecting his control over his emotions, of keeping his feelings hidden until he was ready to let them go.

So when the Clippings Book spat out a page about a new artifact to hunt down, Jake took one look at the location and stuffed the paper into his pocket. "I'll take this one," he told Jenkins, the only other person who'd witnessed the assignment. "Tell the others I'll be gone for a few days."

"Are you sure it will take that long?" Jenkins asked shrewdly.

Jake shrugged out of the long sleeve flannel he'd been wearing over his t-shirt—he wouldn't need it where he was going. "A couple of days at least," he said. "Can you tell them?"

"Certainly." Jenkins gave him a smile and reached out to take his shirt. "Shall I prepare the door?"

"Thanks, Jenkins."

Once everything was ready, Jake stepped through the door of the library and into a world drenched in sunshine. He sucked in a breath, unable to keep from staring. He'd seen more than his fair share of beauty over the years, but this... this was different. The colors here seemed brighter, more vivid, as if the greatest painters in history had all collaborated on this single canvas. Green leaves waved at him from gently swaying palm trees, and overhead a sapphire sky stretched across a peaceful horizon. He heard the door to the Library shut behind him, but he didn't bother looking back. His heart was already lost to the sound of waves in the distance.

"What are you doing?"

Jake started, blinking at the woman who'd just spoken. She stood across the path, half-turned as if she'd been going the other direction. Had he cut her off? He'd been so focused on the scenery that he hadn't looked where he was walking, so it was definitely possible. He glanced back at the door he'd come out of and frowned at the Employees Only sign in its center, then made a quick study of his surroundings. His back was to a building that appeared to be a hotel, judging by the pool and uniformed staff to his right. "I'm sorry," he started. "I was—"

"You're supposed to be back at the gift shop," she said, stepping toward him. She held a drink carrier with four coffees in one hand, and the scowl she gave him seemed too severe for a stranger. Her eyes sharpened as she got closer. "What happened to your hair?"

"Uh... what?"

A look of disbelief swept over the irritation on her face. "Oh no. No, this can't be happening."

"What? What's happening?"

"You're not—you're not another one?"

"Another what?" Jake's irritation flared, and he fought to get it back under control. The woman was clearly confused. He shouldn't hold it against her.

"What have I done to deserve this?" she muttered to herself. "I'm a good person. I help people. One I can understand—I've made mistakes. Two, maybe, after everything I put my mother through. But three? No one deserves that."

"Ma'am," Jake said. "I think you've got me confused with someone else. I don't—"

"Your name is Stone, isn't it?" she asked.

His hope for a peaceful vacation shattered. Jake did his best to keep his voice even, but he could still hear a tremor of frustration as he spoke. "How do you know that?"

"You'd better come with me," she sighed.

Jake folded his arms. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You are if you want answers," she said. When he still didn't move, she added, "My name is Kai."

As if that was his biggest question. He wanted to argue, to demand that she tell him how she knew his name and where she wanted to take him, but he kept his mouth shut. If he'd learned anything from his time as a Librarian, it was that he should follow people who said they could lead him to answers—especially since he hadn't done any research beforehand. Usually he read the Clippings Book pages through several times before leaving on a mission, but this time he'd only skimmed to pick out the relevant details: the artifact he was supposed to retrieve was something called the Ring of Harmony, and it was in the Philippines. He'd thought that was all he needed to know to start with. Apparently he was wrong.

So he took a breath, telling himself that he was Flexible Vacation Jake, and followed her along a path that led from the resort to a long expanse of beach.

"Do you live here?" Jake asked, matching her stride.

She glanced at him and frowned. "At the hotel?"

"No, here." He gestured vaguely. "On the island."

"Yes."

Okay... he'd been hoping for more, but it was a start. "Have you noticed anything weird lately?"

"Weird," she echoed. "Yeah. That's one word for it."

She wouldn't say any more, and after a few minutes of getting nothing but monosyllabic answers, Jake gave up the conversation. The warmth of the sun was starting to feel oppressive, and the gentle breeze now felt like the portend of a coming storm. How could something he had just found so beautiful now seem so restrictive? With a single conversation, he'd managed to lose the sense of joy and wonder that had nearly blinded him when he'd walked through the door. He used to be able to ride that wave of passion throughout the whole mission, even when Ezekiel was at his most annoying. Now? Now he just wanted to finish up and retreat back into his office.

When had he started looking at this life as a job instead of a blessing?

"There," Kai said, pointing up the beach to a small building with a brightly painted sign hanging over the door.

"Paradise Gift Shop?" Jake read, more confused than ever. "What, you want me to buy a t-shirt before you tell me what's going on?"

"He can use all the sales he can get," Kai shrugged.

"Who?"

She pointed again, and Jake looked back to the shop. Three men had just walked through the door and were making their way down the steps to the sand. The first was a wiry man with a gun on his belt, but the other two—

Jake stopped. He watched as they filed onto the beach, talking easily with each other, laughing. It wasn't possible. Alex had been in Spain the last time Jake managed to track him down, and Eliot... Eliot just dropped off the face of the earth. Jake had given up hope that he was even still alive. How could they be here, together?

Without him?

One of them looked up and waved to Kai, who stepped aside so she was no longer blocking their view of Jake. "Is that...?" the other one said, shielding his eyes and squinting. Jake didn't move. His thoughts raced, but they didn't seem to bring him any helpful information. Just a steady stream of What's going on? and How is this happening?

"Go on," Kai said, nudging him forward. He took a jerky step and stayed there, forcing a slow, even breath through his lungs. He saw Kai peer at him from his peripheral vision, waiting, but he couldn't move. He couldn't think. He just watched his brothers walk up to him, frowning, as if they weren't sure what to do next.

"Jake?" one of them said—the one with the shorter hair. Jake couldn't tell them apart. His own brothers, and he couldn't tell which was which. It had been so long... if they didn't share his face, he doubted he'd have recognized them at all.

"Another one?" asked the wiry man, moving to stand beside Kai. "How many more of you are there?"

"It's just us three," answered Jake's other brother.

"Jake," said the first. "Say something."

Say something? What did they want him to say? He'd spent years trying to get them to talk, begging them to get together, to be a family. They were the ones who walked away. He'd stayed home, taken over the business he never wanted, given up his dreams, waited. And decades went by, and they never came. They let him do their share of the work, take on their share of the responsibility, and they never came back.

And now they wanted to talk?

"Eliot," Jake said, his voice hoarse. "Alex."

His fingers curled into fists, and he swung at them both.

[ysmpainting]

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[roaringlilyevans]

It was a beautiful day, and Lily couldn’t bear to be cooped up in her office over the lunch hour, so she found herself wandering the streets of Diagon Alley, enjoying the sunshine and trying to decide what carryout to treat herself to before she returned to the Ministry. Humming softly to herself, a bright canvas caught her eye, and she slowed her stride, approaching the man who was painting on the canvas. It was the sort of thing you saw all the time in the streets of Muggle London, but Lily couldn’t remember seeing someone doing this in the wizarding world, and she felt charmed by it. Stopping a few feet away, Lily felt the wind tickling her hair and the sunshine warming her face as she watched the man work. After a moment, she realized that someone else had stopped nearby to watch, and she turned to look at them, wanting to share this delightful moment with someone else. When Rosaline turned and addressed her, Lily was startled by the derisive tone. “I don’t know if he would consider it to be a waste,” she replied lightly, her gaze turning back to the painter.

Location: Streets of Diagon Alley Date: May Open

It was a beautiful day out, and Rosaline intended to enjoy the sunshine. It felt like winter had lasted far too long and she wanted to enjoy every moment of sun that she could. She had gone to Moribund's earlier to get some paperwork done, she much preferred to get her work done early before the staff arrived and to get out before a problem undoubtedly would come up. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a man with a canvas and easel where a small crowd had gathered. Rosaline looked wistfully at it, wishing that she were the painter. She knew her wishes and desires 'didn't go in society' and so she was stuck watching art, enjoying art, in secret, when nobody was watching her.

She felt someone watching her, and she forced a smile on her lips. "It must be nice to just waste the day painting, don't you think?" She asked, her voice derisive.